


Mon Petit Chaton

by PotterheadAvengerDemigod



Series: Paon Bleu [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Gen, Hugs, Identity Reveal, Marinette will give them to him, Reveal, Reveal Fic, Secret Identity, They need hugs, adrien needs a hug, all of them - Freeform, and gabriel is mad, but really forgiving cause he got his wife back, cause mama agreste left them for like half a decade and adrien is sad, cause they're both dorks, like they're both seventeen idk, lots of hugs, mama agreste - Freeform, then again Adrien is mad too but Marinette's good for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:09:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6116029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PotterheadAvengerDemigod/pseuds/PotterheadAvengerDemigod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A note. That's all she left behind. (Pardonnez Maman, she says.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mon Petit Chaton

**Author's Note:**

> Oh God I have become Ladybug trash. I really can't take this, I swear this is a kid's cartoon. (I am just going to use the excuse that I am using this fluff-filled show to escape from the angst that is Civil War.)

It’d been five years since his maman had disappeared.

Five years of neglect from his dad, and five years of freedom as Chat Noir.

There’s a picture of them on his desk, a small framed depiction of how happy the family’d been. His père, smiling widely with arms slung across both of their shoulders, angular lines of his jaw softened. His maman with her slim arms wrapped around him, her pale pink suit jacket and black cashmere cardigan, trademark brooch still sticking in his mind.

She’d always loved her brooches.

He’d been eleven when they’d taken that picture, barely a year before she’d disappeared.

He remembers that old flower brooch that she’d loved so much, and remembers her other favorite brooch, the one she’d never taken off; a small peacock with tail feathers fanned out, the ends of each feather studded with a single tanzanite gem. She’d had the brooch since he could remember, and she never went anywhere without it.

He misses her. He misses everything about her.

He doesn’t have much time to think about it now, not with photoshoots and school and being Chat Noir, but sometimes, when he has the rare free period, he just sits in his room and stares at that photograph.

Even Plagg knows to leave him be when those moods take him.

That’s also how Marinette finds him when she swings into his room.

He usually leaves his window open nowadays, and the red-suited heroine that is his classmate and girlfriend likes to drop by occasionally, especially on days when they both have nothing to do, because she knows how prone he is to retreating into his own head when he’s alone.

“ _Chaton?”_ Marinette calls, padding over to where he sits, and Adrien startles at the call, mind abruptly jumping to the note that’s pinned to the picture frame, the one that is the only reminder he has of Maman.

 _“Adrien, mon petit chaton,”_ the note reads. _“Je t’aime. Pardonnez Maman.”_

The superhero shakes his head, locks of hair whipping around before settling, pushing his thoughts aside and grinning up at his Lady.

“Akuma?” He asks, seeing her suited up.

The girl shakes her head and un-transforms, Tikki fluttering out of her earrings to join Plagg on Adrien’s desk. She stretches herself out on his bed, perfectly at home.

“I can’t just visit my boyfriend, kitty cat?”

Adrien grins, gingerly placing the photo frame back in its place and perching atop his covers, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to Marinette’s lips.

“Of course you can, my Lady.”

That’s when a loud gasp resonates from the floor below, and both Adrien and Marinette exchange worried glances before leaping to their feet and racing out of the room and down the stairs.

The first thing they see is Nathalie’s stunned expression.

The second thing they see is the woman with hair a few shades darker than Adrien’s and heart shaped face.

She’s dressed in a pastel pantsuit and a deep gray cardigan. Pinned to her cardigan is a blue-green brooch, a peacock with tail feathers fanned out.

She looks up at the pair, and green eyes meet green.

“M-Maman?” Adrien stutters, voice small and timid.

Behind him, there’s a sharp intake of breath from Marinette and Nathalie is speaking hurriedly into her bluetooth, something that sounds a lot like, “Sir, you need to come to the main hall now.”

Then Gabriel Agreste himself appears at the top of the stairs.

The woman’s gaze snaps from Adrien to his father, and her eyes tear slightly as the usually taciturn man almost dashes down the stairs to envelope her in his arms.

Adrien just stares at the man who is his cold, unfeeling father, and then there are silent tears tracking down his cheeks. Marinette pulls the boy into a tight hug, feeling Adrien’s shoulders shaking uncontrollably, feeling his warm tears soak through the sleeve of her jacket. In between his hitched, almost inaudible sobs, she hears soft, distressed murmurs of, “Maman, Maman.”

It’s not the first time she sees Adrien cry, but it’s the first time she sees him really _sob_ , the first time she’s seen him so affected.

Marinette’s eyes meet Mrs. Agreste’s, and she can see the startling resemblance, and even though Adrien had his father’s nose, hair colour and the shape of his eyes, his face shape, complexion and eye colour was all his mother’s.

Adrien’s tears slowly subside as he swipes viciously at his eyes, wiping away the tears before turning to look at his mother.

“Why did you leave?” The boy asks, voice trembling as he tries his hardest to keep it from cracking. “We needed you. _I_ needed you. Five years, Maman, I was just twelve when you left.”

Of course, if she hadn’t left, he wouldn’t be Chat Noir, because Père wouldn’t have become the absent father that he was, and he wouldn’t have been able to sneak away like he did.

But he’d still needed her, needed a parent to take care of him, to ask after him, ask how his day was, if he was alright, if anything bad happened. To look after him when he fell sick, to come to school on Career Day. He’d needed a parent to care.

But she’d left.

His maman swallows audibly and steps toward him.

“Adrien,” she starts. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you, but I _had_ _to,_ I really did, I’m sorry, _mon chéri.”_

Adrien’s eyes, red-rimmed as they are, narrow in as close an approximation to fury as Marinette’s ever seen on his face.

“What could be more important than your family?” Adrien asks, and Maman looks stricken while his Père stares disapprovingly at him for his words.

Maman looks down, and even though her murmur is too low for even his père, who is right beside her, to hear, Adrien’s enhanced hearing catches the mumbled, “Nothing is. I left to protect you.”

His anger dissipates, even as the logical part of his brain wonders what the heck she could be protecting him from. What could abandoning them possibly do to protect them?

But Adrien, of all people, understands that some things must be kept secret, if solely to ensure the safety of the people you love, so he stays silent, deflating like burst balloon as his anger deserts him in a rush.

“Okay then,” he says, and then he turns and heads back up to his room, Marinette trailing behind, feeling her heart ache at the identical expressions of heartbreak that both mother and son sport.

* * *

Madeleine Agreste feels something twist in her chest at the sight of her son’s retreating back. He’s so tall now, so grown up, so different from the sweet, young twelve year old that he was when she left.

He has a sadness about him now, a deep melancholy that she can’t help but think she played a part in causing. At least he looks mostly happy, discounting that look in his eyes. She assumes that the dark-haired girl who’d come down with him was his girlfriend, and at least they looked like they loved each other.

Adrien deserved to be happy. He deserved someone to love him, to look after him in all the ways she never could.

A small blue feathered creature flutters out of Madeleine’s pocket, perching on her shoulder.

The woman sighs, a single finger stroking the creature’s head. “Oh, Kyaa, what am I going to do?”

Gabriel’s already left, rushing back to work, because he was a busy man, even when he didn’t want to be. The blue-feathered creature nuzzles against her palm, safe to come out now that there’s no one around.

“What do I do? Gabriel may forgive me, but Adrien’s clearly mad. Kyaa, he’s my son, and I abandoned him.”

“You had no choice, Madeleine, you had to leave to protect them. You know that any villain would have stopped at nothing to find out who you are. If they did...”

“I know, Kyaa, I know,” the woman sighs before smiling slightly as she turns to her kwami. “Want to go out for a rooftop run? For old times’ sake?”

The peacock kwami nods, and then Madeleine’s yelling, “Kyaa, transformez moi!”

The kwami zips into the bejeweled peacock brooch on her cardigan, and a blue light suffuses throughout the room as the transformation takes hold.

When the light dims, standing in place of the cultured Mrs. Agreste is a woman dressed in a blue bodysuit, swirls reminiscent of feathers curling across the fabric, strips of green fabric decorated to look like a peacock’s feathers trailing from the small of her back, and across her face is a blue-green mask with curlicues across the top. In her hands is an ornate fan made out of peacock feathers, and above her left breast is that same peacock shaped brooch that is her Miraculous.

When Madeleine lets herself out of the house via the window she’d always used to leave through in the past, it’s already sundown, and the view of the sun setting with the Tour Eiffel in the backdrop is a truly amazing one, the sky awash with orange and pink, the blue of night just starting to fade in.

She’s seated on the top of the Arc de Triomphe, her favourite place when she was still a hero of Paris, the Tour Eiffel in the distance. It’s beautiful sight, one she hasn’t seen for years; and she finds that she misses her home far more than she’d thought.

Then she sees two silhouetted figures swing into her line of sight, landing at the very top of the Eiffel Tower, the part just underneath where the broadcast aerial starts that isn’t open for public access.

 _“Villains?”_ She wonders. She’s never seen two villains work together before, though, and she’d clearly seen two figures swing to the top of the Tour Eiffel _._

“Better check that out,” she murmurs to herself, and then she’s off, her fan melting into a bow. She grabs a feather arrow and fires, the attached cord allowing her to swing her way to the Tour Eiffel.

When she gets there, she scales the sculpture with less ease than she used to; she’s out of practice, and it’s been a long time since she’s fought. She hopes that if the two she saw were indeed villains, they weren’t powerful ones.

A sudden shiver trembles down her spine, as she gets closer to the top where the two reside. The feeling grows stronger, until they’re almost within view and she finally identifies the strange tremble in her bones.

Kwami magic.

Of course. After she’d left Paris, villain activity must have increased, and other kwamis had come in to pick their chosen. After all, they couldn’t leave Paris unprotected.

But she’s never felt kwami magic this strong. There’s the presence of two opposing magics, but instead of clashing and fighting, they seem to be blending, merging with the other and balancing each other out, creating a delicate equilibrium that somehow feels stronger than anything she’s felt before.

Almost like how she’d been with her own partner, back in the day.

She peeks over the edge of the platform that the two other Miraculous users are on, and she sees a blond haired boy in a black leather bodysuit with cat ears and a belt for a tail. Across his face is a simple black domino mask, his eyes a bright -almost neon- green and slit-pupilled. His blond hair is wind-ruffled and mussed, teeth bared in a confident smirk as he looks at the girl beside him. Said girl is dressed in a skintight full body suit, a bright red dotted with black spots. Her hair is dark as night, so black that it gleams almost blue in the lighting, and a red domino mask with black spots stretches across her cheeks. Her dark hair is pulled back into two simple pigtails, held in place by thin strips of red ribbon, and she’s laughing at the boy beside, almost doubled over in her mirth.

 _Ladybug and Chat Noir_ , Kyaa’s voice whispers in her head, and yes, Madeleine can see the resemblance to their namesakes.

The girl’s laughs die down, and she turns a smile on the boy instead, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around her waist.

The two paint a picture of contrasts, his light hair against her dark locks, his black suit against her bright red.

They look amazing together, happy, content.

She wonders what life would have been like if her relationship with Gabriel had been like the two in front of her.

If Gabriel had known that she was secretly a superheroine.

In front of her, the two are joking around, their words too soft to be heard by her, but just loud enough that she can hear the sentiment in their voices, tender and loving.

She wonders how long the two have been partners, how long they’ve been fighting side by side against the villains of Paris. From their closeness, she’d assume at least a few years, and the two are completely at ease with the other. She wonders if they know each others’ identities.

The girl ruffles the boy’s hair and taps a finger against the golden bell adorning the open collar of his suit, the light chime ringing out into the open air hundreds of metres above Paris, and the boy pouts, tackling the girl with his claws sheathed as his gloved fingers scrabble at the girl’s sides, their laughter ringing clear and true as the tackle quickly deteriorates into a full-blown tickle fight.

Their laughter echoes in the silence of the night, youthful and innocent despite their duties, and Madeleine can’t help but wonder how old they are -they look to be at the most eighteen, and they’ve probably been fighting for much longer before this; that’s far too young to be risking their lives for the people.

Then the boy -Chat Noir, she remembers-, freezes, every muscle in his body tensing and his posture going rigid as he spins and unconsciously positions himself partially in front of Ladybug.

“ _Minou?_ ” Ladybug asks softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”

Chat Noir spares her a quick glance, brow furrowed. “Do you feel that, my Lady?”

“Feel wh-” the girl starts, only to break off abruptly as she shudders. “What _is_ that?”

“No idea,” the other hero replies, reaching behind his back and pulling out a silver baton. In his hands, the baton grows until it’s of a similar height to the boy himself.

To his right, the girl -Ladybug- flicks a bandalore back and forth, posture radiating tension.

“An akuma?” She asks, although Madeleine can tell by her expression that she doesn’t quite believe her own words, even if she doesn’t particularly understand Ladybug’s words. _What’s an akuma?_

Chat Noir shakes his head, blond hair flying before finally falling back into place, even more of a mess than it had been.

“No,” he disagrees. “This feels different. Not as… malicious.”

An akuma, malicious… A villain, then?

That’s also when Madeleine knows that they’re talking about her. She’s surprised at how quickly they detected her presence, usually it takes her quite a while before she senses other kwamis.

Then again, their kwamis were opposites of the other, she guesses they could be boosting each other’s powers, providing a sort of balanced network for each of the other’s powers to rebound off, amplifying them.

Well, she’s not a threat to them, and they to her, so she may as well reveal herself. It’s not like there’ll be any harm done.

She leaps up onto the platform that the other two are perched upon.

“That would be me,” she says as an introduction. “ _Paon Bleu_ , at your service.”

Both of them startle, Chat Noir immediately jumping between Ladybug and her.

“Hang on, _minou_ ,” Ladybug starts, stepping up beside the black-clad hero, placing a steadying palm on his chest. “She could be a friendly.”

At her words, both Ladybug and Chat Noir abruptly tilt their head to the side in perfect synchrony, as if they’re listening to some unheard voice, before both chorus, “Tikki/Plagg says she’s okay.”

Madeleine guesses Tikki and Plagg are their kwamis.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir, I guess,” Madeleine says. “Kyaa’s -she’s my kwami- told me a lot about you. Thank you for protecting my city when I couldn’t.”

Ladybug smiles. “It’s our city too.”

Madeleine returns the smile. It’s good to not be alone in this hero business.

“Anything suspicious?” She asks in lieu of continuing the previous conversation, watching the two exchanging glances, their partnership so strong that they don’t need words to communicate.

“As far as we can tell, no,” Chat Noir replies.”It’s been _paw_ sitively quiet.”

Beside him, Ladybug groans and facepalms. “Ignore him, he’s usually worse.”

“ _Meow-_ tch,” Chat grumbles, pouting. “That hurt, my Lady.”

Madeleine hides a smile at their antics before nodding and turning away.

“I guess I’ll go then, if there’s nothing going on tonight.”

The two wave and then Madeleine is jumping off the platform, heading back home. Behind her, she hears Ladybug telling Chat Noir that they should probably be heading back as well, the cat hero whining but ultimately agreeing.

She feels lighter now, more free, like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders.

She’s not alone in protecting Paris any longer, and while Adrien may never forgive her, at least she’s back home.

She reaches the Agreste Manor, sneaking in through that side window that is somehow always left open.

Maybe she’ll try speaking to Adrien again.

She darts into the manor, the window leading to one of the smaller guest rooms in the house. She moves forward, locking the door as a precaution before she drops her transformation, placing Kyaa gently on her shoulder.

“Come on, Kyaa, let’s get you some fruit.”

That’s when she hears the sharp intake of breath from the corner of the room, a small area that’s mostly cloaked in shadows and too dark for her eyes to make out.

Then a head of neatly styled blond hair appears, followed by a lean body clad in a white button-up and a black shirt under, blue jeans completing the outfit. Every scrap of fabric is designer brand Gabriel.

“Maman?” Adrien breathes, and then Madeleine panics.

“Adrien!” She gasps. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough, Maman. Does Père know that you’re a superhero? Is that the reason you left?”

Madeleine sighs.

“No, _mon cheri_ , your Père doesn’t know. And yes, that’s the reason I left. My enemies were getting too powerful, they might have found out who I was; I couldn’t endanger you and Gabriel that way. So I left.”

Something sparks in Adrien’s eyes, something light and understanding, visible even in the darkness of the room. Something like forgiveness. Something like hope.

“I understand, Maman,” Adrien says, smiling, and then he’s striding forward, steps steady and sure, wrapping her in his arms, and, oh, her little baby boy is taller than her now, so much taller, so much stronger, even with the enhanced strength that Kyaa provides her she has a feeling that Adrien could still overpower her.

When he pulls back, both their eyes are a little teary, but his glints with a hint of something, maybe mischief, and he holds a hand out to her.

“Now come, Maman, I’m sure your kwami’s starving.”

Madeleine nods gratefully, taking the proffered hand before startling, drawing back.

“How- what did you just say?”

Adrien’s grin widens, taking on a slight smugness, and _where has she seen that expression before_?

“I said,” he repeats, grin firmly in place. “Your kwami’s got to be starving.”

Madeleine balks. “H-How do you know about kwamis?”

“Oh, that’s simple. Mine told me about them, _Paon Bleu.”_

Behind her son, a small black creature floats lazily into view.

“Nice to meet you, Mama Agreste,” the kwami drawls. “Now, where’s Kyaa? _There’s_ one kwami I haven’t spoken too in a long time.”

“Y-You’re-You’re Chat Noir?”

Adrien bows. “At your service. Maman, meet Plagg, my kwami.”

A blue feathered kwami flutters from Madeleine’s shoulder to perch atop Adrien’s head, laying down and smiling at Plagg.

“Plagg. Long time no see, how you’ve been? How’s Tikki?”

“Fine, Kyaa, Tikki’s perfectly happy too. How’s Abett?”

The bubbly blue kwami falters, feathers drooping. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since Madeleine and I left.”

Plagg gapes. “You left your _yin_? Kyaa, you know what that can do!”

“I know, I know,” the kwami sighs. “But we didn’t have a choice! The villains were so close to figuring out Madeleine’s identity, they would’ve have gone after her family! We left the night a villain attacked the manor. You know how Abett’s all about following the rules, I couldn’t have told him where we were going, he would never have let us go. Madeleine barely had time to leave a note before we had to go.”

The black cat kwami’s whiskers droop. “But now you’re back, you should go find him. I knew there was a reason Tikki and I haven’t heard from both of you in so long. Rebellion can’t exist without rules, and rules can’t exist without rebellion. You have to be feeling the separation, Kyaa, and it’s probably ten times worse for Abett, because he doesn’t know why you left.”

Kyaa tilts her head to the side, wide eyes narrowing in consideration. “I’ve been trying to find him ever since we came back to Paris, but I can’t feel him anymore. The entire city’s magic lines are coated in a dark mist, it’s unnatural, twisted. There’s something wrong. It was never like this before we left.”

Plagg nods in understanding. “It was already beginning when Tikki and I came in, but it wasn’t this bad at the start.”

The peacock kwami smiles wanly before pulling Plagg into a hug, changing the subject. “Either way, it’s good to see you again, Plagg. Looks like we’ll be seeing each other a lot more now.”

Then Adrien clears his throat from below them.

“Okay, well, it’s good to hear you guys catch up, but Maman and I both have long days tomorrow, and it’s late,” he chuckles, ignoring Plagg’s grumbling even as Kyaa flits back over to his Maman’s shoulder.

“Maman,” he calls as he turns to leave the room. “Fruit’s in the fridge in the kitchen, I’m sure you remember where it is.”

Madeleine nods in the affirmative, cradling Kyaa in her palms.

“And,” Adrien continues, cheeks flushing slightly. “For what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re back. I missed you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have managed to shove way to many headcanons into one fic. Seriously. I may do more in this 'verse cause I have a whole ton of ideas, but ugh timeeeee (I do not have).


End file.
